


Idiots of S.H.I.E.L.D.

by LittleRedTheBoy (StupidGenius)



Series: Welcome to Level 7 [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Agents of Shield AU, All warnings that should come with Kate apply, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst and Humor, CHARACTER DEATH ISN'T PERMANENT JUST SO YOU KNOW, Genetic Engineering, Hacker Stiles Stilinski, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, I'm not a math and science person, Major Character Injury, Mind Control, Multi, POV Alternating, Slow Build, Spies & Secret Agents, Theres a happy ending i swear, also, also hacking inaccuracies?, biochem and engineering inaccuracies, like extremely, spoilers if you aren't caught up with either show i think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 16:46:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4229355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StupidGenius/pseuds/LittleRedTheBoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Combat – top grades. Espionage – she gave you the highest marks since Romanoff.” The Sheriff paused. “But, uh, under people skills, she drew a – I think it’s a little poop. With knives sticking out of it.”</p>
<p>“Wha – Laura!” Laura looked like she was trying not to die of laughter.</p>
<p>Damn it.</p>
<p>
  <b>Chapters 1-2 edited as of  31/05/2016</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One – I’m Like a Hacktivist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a world where Ward was never Hydra, Skye went down into the ocean with Jemma instead of Fitz, so all that stuff happened to her, and Hunter and Bobbi were already on the team. Except, nothing like that at all, because this is Teen Wolf.  
> (Starts off like the show did, and then slowly changes until nothing is the same. Just warning you)
> 
> Also, like, 95% of the dialog is from the actual show in the beginning. Okay.

Derek was a bit of a legacy in S.H.I.E.L.D. His grandparents worked with Agent Carter on actually founding SHIELD. His mother was one of the most respected agents there, nicknamed ‘The Cavalry’ after a terrible mission in Bahrain. His father is the SHIELD resident therapist – not fun. His older sister has actually _spoken_ to the avengers, and his younger sister is an assassin. So, yeah. The Hales are kind of a big deal.

He himself has been on hundreds of missions already, all of which have gone smoothly. Ish (There was that one time in Mexico no one likes to talk about. Mostly from fear of death by Derek’s fist). Right now, he's being called into an interrogation room by Laura. He doesn't know why or why he even has to be called in by another agent rather than His mother or Laura herself calling him on his cell.

“You wanted to see me?” He raises an eyebrow. Laura has her business face on. He sits down in the chair across from her.

“How much do you know about what happening in New York, Agent Hale?” Ah. So, this is a professional meeting. That’s why.

“The Avengers fought together for the first time to defeat an alien army. I know that a lot of alien tech got released out into the streets. The Sheriff died in that battle. I got the full Report.” At that, Laura smirks, leaning back  in her chair.

“About that-”

 “Welcome to level seven.” None other than the Sheriff himself steps out of the shadows, and Derek blinks, awestruck. Not a lot of things surprise Derek anymore, but this…

“What the fuck.” He blurts. Laura snickers, meanwhile, the Sheriff is grinning like a loon.

“Sorry, that corner was really dark, I couldn’t help myself.”

Oh.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“So Fury faked your death to motivate the Avengers?” Derek wonders.

“The death of a common ally is a typical team builder.” Laura points out, and yeah, that's kind of true, but still. Harsh.

“It wasn’t that much of a stretch. I stopped breathing for forty minutes.”

“Okay, it was eight. It gets longer every time you tell it, sir.” His sister rolls her eyes, while Derek stands there, gaping. The Sheriff. He's having a conversation with the Sheriff. The man who was in charge of the Avengers. Who’d apparently gone head to head with fucking Loki and _lived_. Wow.

“Well, you can tell it your way, but I was looking at the big white light, and it felt a lot longer than eight seconds.” Sheriff tells her, turning to a desk to sign some papers.

“Do the avengers know that Fury played them?” Derek asks, signing the form that Sheriff pointed to.

“They’re not Level 7.” Laura shrugs. Derek raises an eyebrow.

“The Avengers. The protectors of the world, in charge of the lives of seven billion people. I’m a higher rank than them?” He says, deadpan.

“Welcome to the big leagues, little bro.”

“Back to the mission.” Sheriff leads them into a smaller room, and Derek turns his attention to the screen on the wall.

“What’s that?” He wonders.

“That’s a superhero, Agent Hale. An unregistered gifted. Identity Unknown.”

“…The secret’s out. For decades, an organization…” A guy’s voice filters through the speakers, just a bit before being layered over by others.

"Another little gift from the Rising Tide.”

“How are they getting this stuff before us?” He asks. Sheriff sighs.

“Same way they cracked our RSA implementation. “ He says. Laura and Derek look sharply over at that. That's…big. “They’re good. So I need better.” He can't possibly mean Derek, right?

“Agent Stilinski has requisitioned a mobile command unit, to which you, baby brother, are assigned to.” _What?!_

“The Rising Tide is trying to draw us out.” The Sheriff continues. “I think it’s time they succeeded.”

“You want me to…cross them off?” Derek tries. Yes, he's good at taking down people when he needs to, but if that's what they want, Cora's much better suited for –

“Wow. No.” Sheriff scoffs, furrowing his brows. “I want to use them to get to him.” He points at the man on the screen. “This man’s world is about to get very weird, son. He’s going to need some help.” Oh. Yeah, no.

“I’m sorry, Agent Stilinski.” He starts, frowning. “But I was trained from day one as a specialist. I go in alone, get it done, not much talking involved there. Defusing a nuclear bomb – I’m your guy. Welcoming committee?” he takesa deep breath. “Not my speed. I don’t know if my family has told you, but I’m not the most…welcoming person here.”

“I know it’s not what you want. Agent Hale-Dunbar –” And of course Laura hyphenated her and her husband’s names. “– did a very detailed assessment of your last three missions.” Sheriff flips open a file. “Combat – top grades. Espionage – she gave you the highest marks since Romanoff.” Oh. So he's tied with his little sister then. Nice. “But, uh, under people skills, she drew a – I think it’s a little poop. With knives sticking out of it.”

“Wha – Laura!” he growls, going around to check the file. Laura looks like she's trying not to die of laughter.

“That’s bad, right?” Sheriff's grinning. He's being mocked by his idol. Wonderful. “And given your family history, I’m surprised it’s not worse.” Right. Peter.

They don't talk about Peter.

“But…I think you’re the right guy for this. If I’m wrong, you go straight back to your bombs.”

“Team’s approved.” Dr. Deaton walks in at that moment, clip board in hand. “Physicals are all fine. Mahealani–Martin is not cleared for combat, but I’m told that won’t be an issue.” Deaton glances at him. "Agent Hale here – he’s almost too fit.” The doctor jokes. Derek leaped forward.

“That’s an issue.” He tries. “That _should_ be an issue. Maybe I can’t join this team – ”

“God –”

“Because my –”

“You are dismissed.” Laura finishes. Derek growls, turning to leave. Right before the door closes, he hears Laura speak.

“It was a porcupine, not a poop.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it was a poop.”

_Damn it._

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles hurries quickly over to the booth before sitting down and checking their surroundings.

“Just act natural.” He says quickly.

“What.” Oh, sweet. British accents.

“Just, like, pretend that we’re talking.”

“We are?”

“Good.” He leans forward. “Cause you never know who’s listening.”

“I don’t even know who’s talking.” British Accent frowns.

“Right!” He grins.  “I’m Stiles. And _you’re_ the hooded hero. Please tell me that you’re not staying with that name.”

“Wait, what? I’m not – I train service dogs for a living.” Stiles scoffs.

“Sure, by _day_. I saw you! You’re a hero! Which is – oh, I’m not like, a groupie, stalker type, I just –” he laughs. “Oh my god! That was so cool. Just – okay, okay. Chill.” He tells himself. British Accent – BA for short? – is looking at him like he''s insane. “Just Don’t draw attention. You’re in danger.”

“You got the wrong guy.” BA tries.

“No no no no, _look_. You’ve got the wrong _approach_.” He rolls his eyes. “The cute girl from the hospital is dying to thank you –and possibly _thank_ you, if you know what I mean, and you’re hiding! That video of you I took got more views than that dog that got drunk off vodka.”

“What do you mean by danger?” BA asks.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Shield what? I should carry one with me? Are you mental?”

“No – SHIELD. The government. Scary men in dark suits who come after special people like you. They knew about the battle of New York before it even happened, and then cleaned it up before anyone could ask any real questions – over night! How long do you think it’s going to take them to clean _you_ up?”

“And you want to know why I’m hiding.” The guy deadpans.

“What if you didn’t hide?” Stiles explains. “What if you got in front of this and let people _know_ you were a hero?”

“I’m just a guy.”

“Well, a guy like that gets work.” He fiddles with some packets of sugar on the table. “Gets perks. I’m great with computers. I mean, like, _really great_ , okay, not to brag. I could help you create a whole new identity or – I – oh!” he gasps, grinning. “A mask!”

“O-kay.” BA has clearly had enough. He stands up, walking to the front, and Stiles goes after him

“Uh, okay – well, you could just- also, we could just stick with the – hood.” He bumps into the guy’s back. “Listen. You can’t walk away from this, dude. With great power comes…a ton of weird crap that you are not prepared to deal with! Now, my office is –”

“ _You_ have an office?” BA raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, I have an office.” He huffs. “It’s a – well, a mobile office. Okay, fine, it’s a…van. I live in a van – by choice!” He has to make that last bit clear. His van's pretty sweet, okay, it's not like he lives in a garbage can. “But, you know, it’s always in the alley around the corner, free Wi-Fi, you can come by any time?”

“Thank you.” BA says after a moment. And then he just turns to leave, without even a goodbye. Rude.

“They’re coming for you.” Stiles says as he waved goodbye, smiling. He can be passive aggressive, okay? BA gives him another weird look before he's finally out the door. Stiles sighs, slumming against the counter. One person. Just one, man. All he needs. At least he has the guy’s license.

_Deucalion? The fuck kind of a name is Deucalion?_ He wonders, inspecting it. “…Duke.” He finishes, starting towards the alley-way exit.

Time to do this.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Derek doesn't have a lot of clothes. What he does have is all monochrome. He stuffs all he has into his biggest black duffel and makes his way towards the quin-jet. It's bigger than he thought it would be. He starts up the ramp, eyeing the large black van for a moment before stopping in front of a pair of people trying – and failing – to fix their luggage.

There's a tiny red-headed woman standing amidst what looks to be over ten large suitcases. A taller, muscular tan man rushes up to her, eyes wide.

“Careful! That’s the night-night gun!” he warns.

“Well, it was on my stuff.” She snaps. “It doesn’t work anyway. And there’s no way we’re calling it the night-night gun.”

“The bullets work!” Tan Guy insists. “Non-lethal, heavy stopping power…” He stops paying attention, honestly, more interested in inspecting the lab the two were in. That is, until the two start arguing. When the name Hermione gets yelled somewhere in there, he sighs, dropping his bag with a heavy thud.

“Mahealani–Martin?” he guesses.

“Mahealani.” The woman points to the other guy.

“Martin.” The guy confirms, gesturing towards the woman. “I’m engineering, she’s biochem. Agent… Hale?” he gives a slight nod.

“Sheriff said I’d need my comm receiver encoded.” He says, pulling it out of his pocket and handing it odd to Mahealani. “I don’t know if you’ve worked with that model before, it’s –”

The guy smashes it to pieces with a hammer, which, where the fuck did that even come from? “…Brand New.” Derek finishes, frowning. That thing cost a lot, damn it.

“He’ll repurpose the I.D.I.S. chip.” Martin tells him, seemingly uninterested.

“Don’t need the external receiver for the inner-ear comms anymore.” Mahealani informs him.

“So, uh, how does it –”

“Embedded sensorineural silicone matched to your DNA.” Martin says, shoving a Q-tip in his mouth. “It’s very posh. Excited about the journey into mystery?”

“Like Christmas.” He says flatly. She nods.

Behind him, the familiar screech of car tires fills the space, and he turns, watching as Sheriff pulls up in a shiny black Camaro.

“One of Stilinski’s SHIELD collectables.” Mahealani tells him. “Flamethrowers, world’s first GPS. He’s mad for this crap.”

“Don’t touch Melissa.” Sheriff barks at one of the agents.

“And he calls it a girl’s name.” the scientist slaps his ass, and – wow, okay?

This is going to be interesting.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Melissa’s not just a collectible, you know. People tend to get the words ‘new’ and ‘improved’ confused.” Sheriff tells him as they tour the jet. “This mobile command, they were in heavy rotation back in the 90’s, but then we got a heli-carrier. Hey, did you ever hear the one about the guy who’s afraid of flying?”

“I’ve done a night jump into a drop zone under heavy fire, sir.” Derek frowns. “I can handle it.”

“That was a joke, son.” Sheriff shakes his head, smiling a little. “The first part of a… you know what, I’m not gonna tell it now. Not important.”

“If you plan to unpack, make it quick. Wheels are up in five.” A familiar voice calls. Derek’s head snaps up quickly.

“Mom? What are you doing here? You said you’d never be on field duty ever again after –”

“I’m just the pilot.” She says calmly, turning to Agent Stilinski. “We may have a hit on one of the Rising Tide’s routing points.”

“Good. We need to do some catching up.” She nods, turning to walk away. She ruffles Derek’s hair as she leaves, much to his distain. He glares at the Sheriff.

‘What is my mother doing here?”

“She told you. She’s just the pilot.”

“Talia Hale? My mother. She's ‘just the pilot’? There’s a reason they call her The Cavalry.” He raises an eyebrow. “Come on, sir. What game are you really playing?”

“Better stow your gear.” Is all he says.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“How will you come at us? From the air? From the ground? How will you silence us this time? How can you? The truth is in the wind. It’s everywhere. You cannot stop the Rising Tide. You will not find us. You will never see our faces, but rest assured – we will rise against those who shield us from the truth. And nothing – _nothing_ can stop us in the –” Stiles jumps when he hears his Van door slide open. He was getting the zone, damn it. He loves doing the big speech –

He turns around. “Uh, hey. What up?” He grins, heart beating out of his chest. Cause those?

Those are most definitely SHIELD agents.

And that's an honest-to-god bag over his head.

He doesn’t know how long it is before the car they threw him in stops, and then he's being dragged roughly up what has to be a ramp. They stop after a few minutes, and then the bag's taken off his head, along with a few strands of his hair. _Ow_.

“Ow!” He whines, throwing himself down on the cold metal chair. “It wouldn’t kill you to be a bit more sensitive, would it? I’m like pre-serum Cap over here.” They just watch him, not even saying a word. “Okay, look. You guys are making a big mistake here–”

“Doesn’t look that big.” The hot agent with the stubble smirks. And okay, rude much? Only he's allowed to insult his appearance, thank you very much.

“Sorry about the hostility.” The older one apologizes, though Stiles really doubts he means it. “Agent Hale here has had some history with your group. The Rising Tide.”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Okay, there are two ways we can do this.” Hale interrupts.

“Wow, is one of them the easy way?” Stiles sneers.

“No.”

_Well, mark me down as scared and horny._

“O-oh.”

“What’s your name?” Hale narrows his eyes.

“Stiles.”

“What’s your _real_ name? Because that can’t possibly be it.” Stiles frowns. Even if he knew what it was, he wouldn’t tell these assholes. But he doesn't know. A story for another time.

“That can wait.” The older one interrupts again. “It’s another name we need. A certain…hero?” ah. Right. Stiles would never actually be important enough for SHIELD to take him in just because he’s him. No, they just need info.

“And what makes you think I know that?”

“Well, you made a little mistake.” Oldie (real creative with the nick names, as you can tell) sits down across from him. “The phone you filled the hooded hero with had the same cryptographic signature as a few of the Rising Tide posts.”

“Wow. Yeah.” He breathes. “Was that a mistake? Or am I now sitting in the center of your secret headquarters?” He looks around. "What is this? A plane? I got inside. And, by now, you’ve probably discovered you can’t beat the encryption on my equipment, so, ya got nothing.” He grins.

“We have a fairly strong coincidence.” Oldie flips open a file. “You, being on the scene. Right before it went up in flames.” He looks up, and there's no doubt he caught the nervous look on Stiles’ face. “Want to tell me what my team is gonna find there?”

Stiles swallows.

“How did you know the hooded man was in the building?” The older man asks, standing up.

“Did you blow it up to draw him out?” Hale asks, and like, wow. Does he look like the type of guy who blows stuff up for fun?

“Did _you_?” Stiles asks. Hale scowls at him.

“That’s…not out style.”

“Uh, are you kidding me right now? I was just _kidnapped_ by your ‘style’.” He snaps. “SHIELD covered up New Mexico, Project Pegasus. Of course you’d be covering up centipede.” Hale and Oldie glance at each other. He feels something like…giddiness, maybe? He can't help but laugh a little. “Holy no way. You don’t know what that is! Oh man. Billions of dollars of equipment at your disposal and I beat you with a laptop that I won in a bet?” This is too good.

“You need to think about your friend.”

“He’s not my friend, dude. I barely know him, alright?” He admits.

“Regardless, we’re not the only ones interested in people with powers. We’d like to contain him, yeah. The next guy’ll want to exploit him, and the guy after that will dissect him.” Oh. He gulps. Hale leans down and levels him with an impressive glare.

“What is Centipede?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Derek watches this 'Stiles' guy pace around. He doesn’t exactly agree with Sheriff’s idea of uncuffing him, but that seems to be the key to getting information.

“Centipede. There was chatter on the web and then – gone. I traced the access point MAC address to that building.” He gestures wildly as he talks, honey brown eyes wide and bottom lip stuck between his teeth.

“What were you after?” Derek questions. Stiles levels him with a look, as if it's obvious.

“The truth. What are _you_ after?”

“World Peace.” Stiles looks unsure. “You pseudo-anarchist hacker types love to stir things up.” He huffs, standing up from the uncomfortable metal chair. Stiles crosses his arms and gives him a slightly pissed off, expectant look “But you’re never around for the fallout. People keep secrets for a reason, _Stiles_.”

“Well, just because you’re reasonable, and…firm…” he glances down at where the guy’s hand is suddenly on his chest, pushing him away. When did that happen? “Doesn’t mean that you’re not an evil, faceless government tool bag.” He finishes.

“Just give us your guy’s name.” Derek groans, running a hand over his face.

“He’s not my guy!”

“You understand he’s in danger, right?” Sheriff raises an eyebrow.

“Then – then let me go! Let _me_ talk to him, not the T-1000 here.” Stiles gestures toward him. Derek rolls his eyes.

“You want to be alone with him. Of course.” He turns away from the hacker’s angry expression. “He’s just a groupie. All this hacking into SHIELD, tracking powers – he might as well be one of those sweaty cosplay girls crowding around Stark tower.”

“Hey!” Stiles snaps. “Look muscles, just cause you don’t like it doesn’t mean you get to diss them for dressing up. And, also, what?! I would _never_ – okay, so maybe I did actually go there, like, once.” Derek exhales sharply through his nose, done with everything.

“Hale.” Stilinski motions for him to step outside for a moment. He growls, following. Once the door's closed, Sheriff speaks. “Is it the boy? He getting under your skin?”

“Sir?”

“Or is it the assignment? Are you so anxious to get out of this that you’d deliberately blow an interrogation?” Shit.

“No, never, I just – give me a minute alone with him, and you’ll have your answers.” He promises.

“He’s an asset.” Sheriff enters a code into a pad by the door, pulling something out of a safe.

“He is _such_ an a – wait. Asset?”

“We don’t know anything about him. Do you appreciate how often that happens?” He paused. “That never happens. We need what he knows.” He opened the briefcase he had set down.

If he has to guess, he’d say that's truth serum.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles continues to pace, even after they leave.

He has to get out of here. They aren’t really offering up any useful information for him, and he’s said too much already. Plus, who knows what they're gonna do with him once this is over? That Hale guy – as hot as he is – looks like he wants to kill him, and the instinct to run like hell is currently way above the one that wants him to jump the guy’s bones.

The door opens, and he quickly sits back down, watching as the two agents enter.

“This is QNB-T16.” The older guy starts. “It’s the top-shelf martini of sodium pentothal derivatives.” Fuck. Stiles tried to get up, and a hot, rough hand slammed him back down on his seat. “It’s a brand-new and extremely potent truth drug.” Fuck fuck _fuck._ “Don’t worry. The effects only last an hour.”

“And you’ll have a nice little nap, and we’ll have all the answers to our –” The guy injects it right into Hale’s arm.

Wait, what?

“Hey! What the hell?!” Hale snarls.

“I’m sorry.” Oldie says, sounding a bit smug. “Did that hurt?”

“N-no.” _liar._ “But you’ve lost your mind. You should never do that to a member of your team. And, yes, okay, it did hurt a little bit. But I always try and mask my pain in front of beautiful people cause I think it makes me seem more masculine my _God_ that stuff works fast.” Hale glares down at his arm, and Stiles practically vibrates in his seat with excitement.

“Don’t trust us?” Oldie says, calling his attention. “Ask him whatever you’d like.”

“Wait a minute.” Hale calls. “Wait, you can’t just –this is definitely not protocol!” oh boy.

Fun time for the Stiles.

“You seem nervous, Agent Hale.” He smirks, stripping off his jacket and leaning forward. Hale’s eye’s flick down to his lips for a second – and oh my _god_ , did that give his ego a boost – before he glares at him.

“I’m calling to mind my training.” Stiles stands up. “There’s no way I’m going to reveal classified secrets to an idiot teenager who’s hell-bent on taking us down.”

“Okay, first, I’m not a teenager. I know I look young, but – never mind. Have you ever killed anyone?”

“Yes, a few. High risk targets.” Hale spits out the words like it pains him. "But they were terrible people – who were trying to murder _nice_ people! And I didn’t feel good afterwards.” Oh jeez.

“And does your grandmother know about these things?” he grins wickedly. Hale groans, turning to look at him with a pinched expression.

“Gram?”

Oh Christ.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Did agent Hale give you anything?” Oldie – Wait, no. Stilinski? – asks, leaning over a table. Stiles sighs, folding up his jacket.

“He told me he’s been to Paris, but he’s never really seen it and that he wishes you stayed in Tahiti.”

“It’s a magical place.” Stilinski smiles.

“He doesn’t like your style. Kind of think I do, though.”

“What about his?” he does a funny hand gesture, and then the news plays on the screen. Stiles gets a sinking feeling in his chest when the words register.

_“…remains in critical condition. Employees could not identify the attacker, but security footage confirms that the man assaulted the factory foreman before damaging…”_

“This – this is wrong.” Stiles frowns. “This is not…the guy I met. He was…he just needs a break.” He breathes.

“Then give him one. What have you got?” Stiles hesitates.

Was he really working with SHIELD right now? Well, okay. Not really working with them, but close. They were using him for information and he was like, willingly giving it to them. _Duke’s become dangerous, Stiles._ _It’s probably the right thing to do._

“Okay.” He sets the ID down on the table.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Deucalion Alkaev. Married, no children, dog trainer. Gets injured, gets laid off, wife jumps ship. Good guy, bad breaks. Best guess is, somebody tells him they can make him strong again. Make him super.” Sheriff crosses his arms over his chest.

“Who has the tech to do that? And why would they want to?” Mom wonders.

“Danny, what do we have from the security footage before the blast?”

“What are we seeing?” Derek asks, squinting at the screen. Stiles paces behind them, and distantly, he wonders why the guy isn’t in handcuffs or behind bars yet.

“Well, the man is angry at the other man.” Mahealani points out. They stare at him.

“The data is very corrupt.” Martin notes.

“Yeah, like cold war Russia corrupt.” Mahealani snickers.

“Yeah.”

“I – I can’t sync the time code without –”

“What if you had the audio?” Stiles interrupts. The team turn to him, and he swallows thickly. “I was, uh, running surveillance on the lab? Before. I had my shotgun mic pointed at the window before the blast. The digit file’s in my van.” He steps towards Mahealani. “There’s too much background noise for me, but you could probably –”

“Danny could most definitely do that.” Martin agrees. “Clean it up, find a sync point and use cross-field validation to find –”

“But I can’t scrub for expression patterns with the vit-c is all –”

“Well, is there a Chrominance subcarrier?”

“Yeah, attached to the back porch, it’s brilliant.” He turns to Stiles. “Um, that audio would be great, thank you very, very much.”

“We will take the audio, please.” Martin nods.

“You’re van’s here.” Sheriff tells him. Derek watches Stiles’ eyes light up. “but you were right, We couldn’t decrypt the files.”

“The encryption’s coupled to the GPS.” Stiles offers. “Get my van back to that alley and then I’m in business.” He crosses his arms over his chest, winking at Derek.

“Agent Hale will escort you.”

“Which-“

“You, Derek.” His mother gives him a pointed look. Stiles grins.

"Looks like we’re working together now, I guess.” He says quietly. Derek sighs.

“Guess so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've realized that Talia's position as May and Derek's as Ward is kind of...incestuous, if you go with what happened in the show. But they were never a thing in this world. Just so we're clear.
> 
> Each chapter is kind of like an episode of the show, except it gradually becomes less like the show, since in this, Derek isn't and has never been Hydra, so that changes a lot of things.


	2. Chapter two – Part of the Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stiles? Boy’s not qualified to be a SHIELD agent.” 
> 
> “Agreed. That’s why I’ve invited him on as a consultant. SHIELD does it all the time – technically, Stark’s a consultant.”
> 
> “Yeah, but technically, Stiles is a member of the Rising Tide. Practically it’s founder. He hacked out RSA implementation –”
> 
> “Twice. With a laptop. I know.” Stilinski smirked. “Imagine what he could do with our resources.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I wanted to write Melissa as May, but then the only other option for the Sheriff's car's name would have been Claudia, and she's actually important later on, so i couldn't do that.
> 
> Also, i mostly started writing this because i'm evil, and i love angst.
> 
> bad things happen in chapter 13

_“What about you?” The Sheriff asked, opening the car door. Stiles cocked his head to the side, confused. “Have you thought about the offer?” Oh. Right. He got into the passenger side and closed the door._

_“Hitching a ride on the crazy plane? I’m not exactly a team player.”_

_“We’re not exactly a team. But we’re in a position to do some good. You’d be a great help, son. And you’d be front row center at the strangest show on earth, which is, after all, what you wanted. Isn’t it?” Stiles thought about it._

_“I was able to hack S.H.I.E.L.D. from my_ van _. You’re gonna show me something new?” he wondered. The Sheriff opened his mouth to reply, but his cellphone started to ring. He pressed the answer button on the car dashboard._

_“Go.”_

“Sir, we’ve got an 0-8-4.” _Hale’s familiar voice came through the speakers._

_“Is that confirmed?”_

“They want _us_ to go and confirm it.”

_“What’s an 0-8-4?” Stiles asked, sitting up a little straighter. Sheriff grinned._

_“You’ve got exactly 10 minutes to decide if you really want to know.”_

_“There’s no way we can make it to the air-field in –”he got cut off when the car actually started to_ levitateoff the ground _. “…ten minutes holy_ shit! _”_

_“The tide is rising.” Sheriff winked before he put on his sunglasses and sped off._

_Stiles said yes._

 

He grabbed the last box out of his beloved van and stepped back. God, he was going to miss it. That van had been his home for the past 8 years. Ever since he got his license, it was just him, the van, and a laptop he won off a jerkwad rich kid. He was feeling more than a little anxious about leaving it.

“Hey, no joyrides, okay?” He called out to the agent who took his keys. “That’s...my house.” He sighed sadly, and okay, was he actually fighting back tears? _Get it together Stiles._

“No worries.” He replied. Stiles nodded, a bit satisfied, and turned around to face the jet.

Stiles was way over his head with this one.

Wasn’t he?

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Stiles? Boy’s not qualified to be a SHIELD agent.” Derek scoffed, following Sheriff around the heli-carrier.

“Agreed. That’s why I’ve invited him on as a consultant. SHIELD does it all the time – technically, Stark’s a consultant.”

“Yeah, but technically, Stiles is a member of the Rising Tide. Practically it’s founder. He hacked out RSA implementation –”

“Twice. With a laptop. I know.” Stilinski smirked. “Imagine what he could do with our resources.”

“I am! That’s exactly what I’m imagining during this frown. Do you see this? This is not a good frown, sir.” Sheriff just rolled his eyes.  “Look, you brought me on for risk assessment? He’s a risk. He doesn’t think like us.”

“Exactly.” Sheriff turned away. Derek looked at his mother, eyes pleading.

“Sorry son. There’s apparently no reasoning with him.”

“But this is crazy!”

“I can hear you.” Sheriff told them.

“He’s right, John. We have two kids on this bus who aren’t even cleared for combat. You’re adding a third.”

“At least Mahealani–Martin are trained SHIELD scientists. But Stiles? You said this was a select team. Assembled to work new cases, to protect people. I don’t see how letting some Hacker tag along –”

“I’m looking for an objection I haven’t already anticipated.” Sheriff interrupted. “I’m calling this. but your frown will be on record. And, if you’re really that concerned, I’ve already added two extra combat-cleared members to the team.”

“Who?”

“Not important right now.” Derek sighed, let out a low growl.

“Fine. We’ve been called in to investigate an 0-8-4. We all know what that means.”

“Yes, we do. It means we don’t know _what_ that means.” He grinned. Derek glared at the two before exiting the room

He was not looking forward to this.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Agent Stilinski told us the news.” Lydia called, getting Stiles’ attention. “What a wonderful surprise. Isn’t it, Danny?”

“Yeah.”

“You must be very excited.”

‘I thought you guys didn’t like me that much?” He wondered, confused. Lydia grinned, and for a moment, he was actually kind of scared.

“That may be so, but Danny and I have thought it over. You’ll be of value to us, and besides. Now we both get eye candy.” Uh, what? “Danny, take his boxes.” Danny grabbed them from him, holding them and looking expectantly at Lydia.

“Um –”

“Okay! Follow me. I’ll show you to your room.” She led them up the steps and into the main part of the plane.

“Officially, it’s an airborne mobile command station, but we call it the Bus.” Danny explained. ‘We find it best to use shorthand when in the field. But everything has to be just so, you know, because of the danger.”

“Yeah, I’ve uh, been up here before. But, I didn’t see much because of the, you know, _bag_ that Agent Hale put over my head.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they’re sorry about that.” Lydia assured him. Stiles nodded, picking up a bottle of water from the counter.

“ _Wheels up in 2, lock it or lose it_.” A voice called from seemingly nowhere.

“What’s that mean?” he asked.

“No backing out now.” The red-head grabbed his hand, pulling him along. “Come on, lets find a bed for our guest.”

“Oh, yeah, there’s only one left. And it’s right next to mine.” Danny winked at him, and Stiles felt his cheeks heat up. The scientist dumped the box on the bed in the first open room they saw, and Stiles peeked inside. It was small, pretty much just a big closet, but it was nice. Soft bed, tv, tiny desk. Much cleaner than his van. He ran a hand over the comforter, jumping when there was a knock on his wall.

It was Hale.

“Hey!” He grinned. “I – I know we didn’t really –”

“You might want to read that.” He interrupted, shoving a small pamphlet into Stiles’ hands. “This isn’t like other planes.

And then he walked away. Stiles sighed, taking a moment to watch him go before opening the pamphlet.

“You can say that again.”

“Say what again?” What was with the scaring Stiles today?

“Sweet ride.” Sheriff nodded.

“I earned a little goodwill from Director Fury when I got hit right before the battle of New York.”

“Woah, wait, you took a bullet?” Sweet.

“Ish.” Sheriff shrugged. “An Asgardian stabbed me through the heart with a Chitauri scepter. The effect was similar. Got a few weeks R&R and this plane. Had it completely refurbished. Studs up – spared no expense.”

“Uh, yeah, Agent Hale told me they sent you to Tahiti.”

“It’s a magical place.” Hadn’t...Sheriff had said that before, hadn’t he? Okay, maybe not. Déjà vu, probably. Nerves because holy _fuck_ he was on a SHIELD plane. He went to put his glass on the table. “Wait! Here, use a coaster. And buckle up.” They sat down, and Stiles looked around as the lights dimmed.

“I don’t even know where we’re going.”

“Peru. That’s were the 0-8-4 was reported.”

“And an 0-8-4 is…?”

“An object of unknown origin.” He looked over. “Kind of like you. Team goes in, determines if it’s useful or if it poses a threat. Last one turned out to be pretty interesting.”

“What was the last one?” he asked, taking a sip of his water. Sheriff smiled. He tended to look like a fucking loon when he was excited, Stiles turned.

“A hammer.”

He choked on the water.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles squinted his eyes against the sun, trying not to inhale too much sand as he closed the car door.

“Tire tracks forty meters back. I’ll check them against the site’s trucks, make sure we’re alone.” Hale called. Stiles turned in a circle, looking all around them. He spotted Lydia and Danny making their way to the tree-line.

“Too much exposure here.” Talia observed. “I’m gonna find a place to park.”

“Stiles! Come with me.” Sheriff called him over. Stiles pushed the branches out of the way as they walked.

“I’m going to burn here. I should have brought sunscreen.” He whined. “You know, we should warn the people who live around here if the 0-8-4 is dangerous. They’re already dealing with anti-mining rebels and the shining path guerrillas. I could – Could post something online.” He pushed another branch away as he spoke.

“Remember the panic when that anti-matter meteor splashed down just off the coast of Miami, nearly devouring the city?”

“No?” he frowned.

“Right. Because we kept it quiet and contained.”

“So then what am I doing here?” he wondered.

“If it gets out, I might need you to create some kind of diversion, put the public on the wrong scent.” He looked him up and down. "You seem like a loud and distracting person, I’m sure you could pull it off.”

Stiles rolled his eyes.

“So, everything I’m against then." he huffed.

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” Somehow, he got the feeling that he wasn’t really. He sighed, rolling the Sheriff and jogging up the steps. “Good morning, professor. I’m agent Stilinski from SHIELD. I understand you’ve made an interesting discovery.”

“I – I’m not sure how to explain it.” Oh, those were the best kind. “This temple dates back at least 500 years. It’s filled with pre-Incan artifacts, and one of them is…impossible. And looks like it might be dangerous.”

“That’s why we’re here.” They Started to enter the temple. Stiles looked around, eyes wide.

There were old markings on the walls, and cobwebs everywhere. Lydia and Danny were setting up some sort of scanning…thingy… and the professor was trying to explain to Stilinski what happened. He couldn’t take his eyes off the glowing thing in the wall though. He’d never been so close to something alien before.

“There’s nothing about this anywhere. It’s amazing.” He breathed, checking his phone. “I searched every data stream. What do we even have here, guys?” he stepped forward, reaching out a hesitant hand to touch it. God, this was so cool.

“Woah, car – uh, be careful – no, don’t do that, Stiles.” Danny’s voice startled him, and he dropped his hand.

“The object’s placement in fossiliferous rock formations suggests that it’s been here for at least 1,500 years.” Lydia told them. Wow. “That predated this temple by a millennium, which means it’s probably alien.”

“Yeah, but the shape and craftsmanship – it’s almost German.” Danny countered. Stiles frowned.

“What is this thing?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Tires match the prof’s truck.” Derek said, going up to his mother. “Uh, where’s your sidearm?”

“If I need a gun, I’ll take one. I’m your mother, Derek, but I can also handle myself.”

“You’re also still human, mom.” He scowled. “What if someone caught you off guard?”

“I’d still be able to handle it.” She crossed her arms, glancing over at a large branch. Derek nodded moving toward it. “I’m not going to be here for long anyway. You’re getting a new pilot soon.”

“That Erica chick that Sheriff mentioned.” He sighed. “I dunno. I thought it would be nice having my mom with me.” She gave him a look.

“Really?”

“Maybe not.” He reached behind the branch and dragged out the man hiding there, throwing him to the ground and pulling out his gun. He could hear when Talia’s elbow connect with another guy’s face. Two other men landed next to the first, his mother aiming guns at both their heads. He grabbed another guy as he came running at them, pointing a gun to his head.

There were too many people now, cars pulling up, men shouting in Spanish. He turned to look at her. “Should have taken more guns.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _“Sir? We have a situation.”_ Hale’s voice came through the comms. Stiles looked up sharply.

“Lots of rebels in this area.”

“Not enough gunfire.” Sheriff sighed. “Keep working. I’m on my way.” He started to leave.

“Don’t even think about it, Stiles.” Lydia called. He ignored her.

“He’s gonna fuck this up. I know he will. You guys are too aggressive.”

“So are the rebels that attacked the Hales.” Danny pointed out. Stiles shook his head, going after the sheriff.

“I’ll be fine.”

 _“…Aqui por un asunto de la seguridad internactional._ ” He caught the tail end of whatever Stilinski was saying to them. He skid to a halt when one of the guns were trained on him. Sheirff groaned. “Stiles –”

“John?” a woman with a thick Spanish accent questioned. Sheriff cocked his head to the side.

“Camilla?” He gestured to the guns. “Do you mind?”

“After you.” Stiles watched Hale shove a guy away, and Talia put down the guns. The one traine don him went down, and he huffed.

“ _Thank_ you.” He swallowed down the fear and panic that had sent his heart racing. For someone who loved action and adventure, he was really bad when it was actually happening to him. Sheriff shot him a glare.

“We’re having a discussion later.”

“Fine, _dad._ ” He grumbled, straightening out his clothes. Derek was stomping angrily over to him.

“You were supposed to stay inside with Mahealani-Martin.”

“I wanted to help.”

‘What good could you do? You’re –”

“Talia, Agent Hale, Stiles.” Stilinski interrupted. “This is _comandante_ Camilla Reyes. She’s with the _Policia military del Peru_. We used to work together back in the day.” He turned to them. “Stiles. Let the team know every thing’s okay.”

“Suurre.” He drew the word out, narrowing his eyes at the woman.

He didn’t know why, but he didn’t like her. Maybe it was the fact that her men had guns on him.

“Come on.” Derek roughly pulled on his arm.

“Hey! Careful, man, I’m fragile.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“We’ve got company.” Derek informed the team, pulling Stiles along. “The national police.”

“What?” Martin frowned.

“Why are they here?”

“They heard about this object, they’re probably here to protect – don’t _touch_ that, Stiles!” Derek growled. Stiles gave him an impressive glare, dropping his hand into the pocket of his red hoodie. “This area has lots of rebel uprisings.”

“Yeah. People are fighting back against the governments mining policies. It’s pretty kick-ass.” Stiles said form beside him. Derek rolled his eyes. He found he did that a lot with him around.

“Yeah, real kick-ass, all this violence.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

‘But it’s what you’re typing. In you van, alone – where it’s safe. How much longer?” He turned away to fact the scientists.

“What’s the hurry? We in danger, Hale?” Martin cocked on perfect red eyebrow.

“Not if everyone does their job.” He gave Stiles a pointed look. “What is yours, exactly?”

“To be a verbal punching bag, apparently.” The guy mumbled. “I’m supposed to create a diversion if stuff goes wrong. That’s what Stilinski said, anyway. I don’t –” the whole structure shook then, and stiles grabbed Derek’s shoulder to steady himself. “What was that?”

“Sounds like they’re engaging with rebels, let’s go.” He shouted over the sound of gunfire. “They’re coming for it, come on!”

“Damn it.” Lydia cursed. “We can’t! We need a containment case for the 0-8-4.”

“It has a fluxuating power core. Frequencies way above 10 exahertz!” Danny told him. Temple shook again, and he watched as Stiles fell back on his ass.

“Yeah, sorry. Science class is over.” He hurried over, reached out, and grabbed the thing. It came out of the wall easier than expected, and he stumbled back a few steps.

“Woah! Dude!” Stiles exclaimed.

“Woah woah woah wait! You – You did not just pull that out of the wall!” Danny pulled at his hair. “What is the matter with you?! Do you realize we don’t know the amount of photon emissions coming out of this – okay.” He grunted when Derek shoved the bag at him, grabbed the last one and hauling it over his shoulder. Stiles was still on his ass, and Derek growled, pulling him up by the front of his hoodie.

“Hey!”

“We don’t know what’ll happen if that thing get excited!”

“I know I’m excited.” The hacker mumbled. Derek did _not_ blush. He didn’t.

“Stay close!” He ordered.

“Danny, come on.” Lydia called as they made their way out of the crumbling temple.

Outside, it was a mess of dust, people, and gunfire. He pulled out his gun and shot blindly, hoping to at least avoid getting the three behind him injured. When he ran out of bullets, he remembered – He didn’t even know what it was called. All he knew at the moment was that it would solve their current problem.

“Get down!” he shouted, pulling it out of his pocket. After a quick glance behind him, he jumped off the steps and planted it into the sand and dirt, and pressed the button on the top. He dropped down to the ground right before it went off, throwing every man on their feet a good few meters back, knocking them unconscious.

Stiles was making his way out of the ruins when Derek noticed the man hiding behind the branches.

“Fuck.” The guy cursed, stumbling back. Derek got ready to push him out of the way, but right before the guns went off, his mother pulled up with the van. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Get in!” He rushed forward, throwing the door open and ushering them all inside.

“Move. Now!” His mother snapped at them.

“Right, yeah, that’s a great idea.” Stiles croaked voice hoarse.

Once inside, his mother took off. He checked behind them.

“Stilinski’s secure in PMP’s truck. Take the south route to the airfield.”

“On it.” he glanced back. Stiles had gone pale, more so than usual.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” He said shakily. “Just, uh, you know. Minor panic attack. I’m fine. It’s okay.” He gasped. Martin ran a hand up and down his arm, and – wow, okay, Derek was kind of jealous?

“Slow down!” Danny yelled. That got Stiles even more worked up.

“Um, are you insane?! We’re going to die if we slow down! And I’m actually quite fond of living, thank you very much!”

“No, listen. We have to be careful! There’s a binding energy structure that could overheat!” Right. The 0-8-4.

“I could roll a window down!”

“Good. There’s not enough air in here.” Stiles agreed. Martin reached for the glass, but at that moment, a few dozen bullets shot at the side of the van. “Never mind! I’m cool with suffocating.”

“Stay quiet and keep you heads down!” Derek finally shouted. “Head left, the ravine empties.”

“But Hale –”

“Quiet!” Talia yelled. After a moment, they screeched to a halt on the ramp of the Bus. “Ramp.”

“On it.”  He felt a hand wrap around his arm, and turned to snarl at Stiles.

“What are you doing?! Stilinski’s still out there!”

“Get off the ramp, you’re in the line of fire.” He pulled him away, checking to see if Sheriff had arrived yet. He Saw him and a few others hurrying to the Bus, and shot at a few people behind them. “Cut it pretty close, sir.”

“Didn’t want to leave anyone behind.” Sheriff sighed.

“Gotta say, I’m really starting to miss my van.” Stiles panted.

And then he toppled over.

“Did he just faint?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Stiles came to, he was on the couch in the main room, and he was alone. His head hurt, and he wince, standing up and stretching. He didn’t remember laying down, which probably meant he fainted. Ugh. She probably should have mentioned that to the team before he agreed to go with them.

He made his way down to the lab, rubbing him temples. Lydia looked up when she heard him, sighing.

“Good. You’re okay. Danny thought you died for a second.”

“Your concern for my health is touching.” He said flatly, eyeing the thing on the table. It was the 0-8-4 from the temple.

“It’s Tesseract technology. Worse than anything a nuclear weapon could do.” Oh. Wonderful. “Not to worry. The device is stable.” He jumped back when she moved too quickly. “Not that it couldn’t explode at any minute, especially if hit with machine-gun fire. But, things like this happen from time to time when in the field, and at first, they’re very unpleasant, and you regret your decision to leave the lab at all but –”

“Are you insane?” Danny’s voice got increasingly louder as he stomped into the lab, Hale behind him “I did explain in great detail exactly what I meant using American fucking English. Not like I was speaking Hawaiian or anything!”

“No, you were speaking techno-babble. See, I use _normal_ English – words like ‘duck’ and ‘run’ and ‘might blow us to pieces’.” Hale snarled.

“Oh. Wow! Well, congrats, Agent Hale. You managed to string three words together in a sentence.” The scientist angrily flitted around, grabbing pieces and adding them to…something.

“Wow.” Stiles observed. “You managed to get Danny angry. He’s like, an angel, dude. How?”

“Shut up. You haven’t even been here long enough to know that.’ Hale glared at him. Lydia smirked.

“He’s right, though.” She commented. Stiles grinned.

“See?”

“Hmm. Let’s review, how did you get me angry, exactly?” Danny glared. “Oh, right. You were being a complete fucking moron.” And so the shouting-match continued. It was getting louder and louder, and a bit amusing, actually, and then –

“Do we have a problem here?” The sheriff asked, stopping all arguments.

“No sir. Just…working on our communication.” Hale answered. Stiles snickered.

“Yeah right.”

“We got out. Didn’t lose anyone, saved a few of theirs – I’d say we did alright. No reason to be fighting, right?” no one answered. “Anything else?” Stiles raised his hand.

“Um, yes. Just – small question here. Because I’ve been feeling like the tag along hayseed rookie, but now I get the sense that Hale here doesn’t even know which one’s Mahealani and which one’s Martin, and uh, they’ve seen even less gunfire than me, and I’m no rocket scientist, but, is this your first mission together?” He guessed planning his hand on the table and leaning forward.

“No. Of course not.”  Lydia waved him off. Danny at least had the decency to look a bit guilty.

“It’s our second.”

“I was your first?” he smirked. “That’s sweet.”

“You’re amused?” Hale growled. He did that a lot, Stiles noticed.

“Terrified, actually. I am in way over my head, but I’ve on this team just as long as any of you. I might as well be team captain. At least I know everyone’s names.” Silence. Lydia scoffed, and Stiles sighed. Guess no one here had a sense of humor. “I was joking, but – that might not be a bad idea, because these guys do not like each other very much. Clearly.”

“This isn’t about that.” Again, with the growling. “I’m a specialist. Today, I could have eliminated the enemy threat myself if I was working alone, but I had non-combat-ready agents –”

“Woah, woah. Wait. You work alone?” Danny interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s so typical. Who do you think Designs your equipment?” Lydia asked, clearly offended.

“Or the polymers in your weaponry?”

“Yeah.”

“People like us.” Danny gestured between him and Lydia.

“Try going into the field with just your bare ass, see how long you survive out there.”

“See them proving the point I just made?” Stiles whispered, leaning closer to Sheriff.

“You’re not wrong.” Yes! Finally. “We still need to iron out the kinks. But Hale. You can speak six languages. Lydia, you have two PhDs in fields I can’t even pronounce, and Danny, you _are_ a rocket scientist. So work it out.” Stiles frowned, watching the man leave.

It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t on that list. So, no, he couldn’t be team captain. Team captain had to have at least one useful quality, and Stiles knew he was just a liability. Why had he even agreed to this again? For excitement? For an in?

This wasn’t fun anymore.

“I – I’m – I’m good at stuff too!” he tried.

No one paid him any mind.

Was it sad to admit that he laid in bed that night, staring down at his little dancing hula girl car ornament, feeling like and wanting to cry? Maybe. He missed his van. Missed his slightly less shitty life out on the streets. One day, and he couldn’t even handle it. He’d fainted, for fucks sake. Hale was right. He wasn’t cut out  for this. He hid behind the safety of his van, where no one knew his name or cared about it. it was good that way. He sighed, putting the hula girl on the small windowsill.

Maybe tomorrow would be less depressing.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Derek sat in the main room, trying to read. Or, well, pretending to read.

He didn’t trust those guys on the Comandante’s team. Or the woman herself, for that matter. He had been trying to watch them for the past two hours. If anyone asked, his mind absolutely did _not_ stray towards thoughts about what Stiles was doing in his room at the moment. He –

“Hunger games?” Stiles’ already familiar voice filled his ears.

“Matterhorn.” He corrected. “One of the hundred books my S.O. gave me that I’m just getting around to.” He looked up. Stiles was in his ridiculous plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt. The least amount of layers Derek had seen him in so far. He was also giving Derek and incredibly blank look. “S.O. – supervising officer.”

“Oh. Got it.” He lifted a glass. “Can I…buy you a drink?” He beamed.

Derek huffed, rolling his eyes. “Why not?”

“Sweet!” Stiles hurried over, sitting down in front of him. “Okay, so – what I said before, when I said the uprising was…whatever I said – a good thing. I don’t want you to think I’m oblivious. What I was talking about was the tweets.”

"Tweets.” Derek repeated. “Are you trying to make things better or worse? I can never tell with you.”

“Listen, ass. Peruvians have organized for the first time in decades. Thousands of suffering people who have never even met uniting over a common idea? It’s mind-blowing. And, I don’t want to bring it up, because I don’t want to see your hate face any more than I already do, but…that’s what the Rising Tide is all about…” he frowned, pouring a drink. “Or, was. Is. Whatever.”

“…Okay.” Derek allowed.

“Usually, one person doesn’t have the solution. But 100% people with 1% of the solution – That might get it done. I think that’s beautiful, pieces solving a puzzle.” He got this really far away look, like he wasn’t all there, and Derek wondered – not for the first time – if it was really a good thing they didn’t know too much about him.

“You and I have different views of the world, I guess.”

“I’ve never been in a war zone during a war until today. That was crazy.” He paused, looking up. “I take it you’ve seen that a lot?”

Derek didn’t feel like answering that. He took long drink from his glass, then reached over and set it down on the table. Stiles gasped, eyes going wide. “Dude, wha – did you get shot!?”

Oh, that. He almost forgot.

“It’s nothing to worry about. Skin deep.” He assured him. Stiles blinked.

“You got _shot_.” He frowned. “Did…did that happen protecting us?”

“I told you not to worry about it?”

“Why? Because you – and this is a direct quote – ‘always try and mask my pain in front of beautiful people’?’ Derek glared. “Fine. No wonder you were so pissed, though.”

“I wasn’t pissed. I was trained to be…the whole solution – to eliminate variables. And today…” He glanced back at the new guys, playing cards across the Bus. “They keep adding up.”

“Guess that’s the difference between us then. We’re both alone, except you actually want to be.” Derek opened his mouth to reply, but Stiles looked up. “We’re turning.”

“We’ve entered restricted air space, so we have to follow certain paths – regulation. This plane is capable of fully automated flight, but, my mother has to be on the stick herself tonight.”

“S.O., Talia has to be ‘on the stick’ – lots of weird lingo on this plane.” Stiles grinned.

“Guess we just can’t seem to understand each other.”

“I understand you just fine, sometimes. I think.” He finally drank from his glass, letting out a small sigh. Derek looked back over at the other men. Their glasses seemed to be left untouched. And, wasn’t that a little odd, considering everyone was supposed to be relaxing and they poured themselves those small drinks over an hour ago?

“Stiles?”

“Hmm?” Okay, did his eyes have to be so god damn wide and pretty all the time? It was offensive, and – no, not the point right now.

“Could you hand me that bottle?”

“Okay, turbo, but you’re still nursing the one you got, I wouldn’t –”

“I’m not the only one.” He pointed out. Stiles cocked his head to the side, then slowly let his gaze wander over to the other men. He let out a soft _oh_ sound, and Derek leaned back, bottle in hand.

“Derek?” Stiles whispered.

He broke the bottle on the table, whirling around to grab one of the attacker’s heads and do the same to it. He punched another in face, and landed on top of him. Behind him Stiles was standing frozen, watching the screen near the bar.

They had Danny.

And they had Stiles now too, apparently, because he never even moved.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They were tied up in the cargo hold. Stiles was still struggling with the  ropes binding his wrists, and he knew that if he got out of this, he was going to have some serious rope burn. He let out a sigh, slumming back against the wall.

“This is my fault. Should have learned Kung Fu.” Danny muttered.

“Shut up. I shouldn’t have pushed you into the field in the first place.” Lydia sighed. “You weren’t ready.”

“It was my job to make a proper threat assessment.” Hale tried.

“This couldn’t have happened if Talia wasn’t on the stick” Stiles finally let out. “She would have busted out some of her ninja-know how I keep hearing about.”

“Talia?  No. No no. She transferred from administration.” Danny frowned.

“Well, I’ve seen her practically destroy a guy, so…” he shrugged. All the others turned to face Hale. He took a deep breath, not looking at them.

“You’ve heard of the cavalry, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course.”

“Uh, no.” Stiles grumbled. “Care to fill me in?” of course, he was ignored.

“Everyone at the academy talks about st – She’s the cavalry?!” Danny gasped. Lydia’s eyes got really wide, which was saying a lot, cause the only emotions she usually showed was bored and smug.

“I told you never to call me that.” Talia grunted, and Stiles jerked, turning to look at her.

“You guys are going to give me a heart attack.” he breathed. Talia glared. He could see the family resemblance.

“I can’t believe it.” Lydia shook her head. “Why weren’t we out of here minutes ago?”

“How do we get out of here?” Was a better question. Talia sat up, thoughtful.

“We can’t go through the doors. They’re bolted, tied to the pressurization lines. You two geniuses have nothing?”

“Hey, I’m also a genius.” Stiles quipped.

“It’s hard to concentrate in these…intense situations.” Danny said. Once again, Stiles is ignored.

“Hey. Don’t freeze up. Take a breath. You don’t need to come up with the whole solution.” Holy shit, was Hale actually offering helpful – wait a minute. He looked up, and Hale was looking right at him. “Just part of it. Right?” And, okay, his insides were all fluttery now, thanks a lot Mr. Sexy-Government-Tool-Bag.

“Yeah.” He said softly. “Pieces solving a puzzle.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Well that’s clearly the worse idea I’ve ever heard.” Lydia offered helpfully. Stiles groaned.

“But it could work.”

“Reyes is gonna kill us the minute we land, regardless, and blame it on rebels. At least this way, we might have a fighting chance. I’ll take it.” It felt nice to have Hale on his side. “What’s first?”

“We can’t get upstairs without going through the lab.”

“And the only way to release the lab doors is upstairs.”

“The first thing is, actually, we’re tied to the cargo door, so unless you can – what the fuck was that?!” Stiles jumped, turning towards the sound of the cracking noise. Hale hummed.

“Her wrist.” Stiles might faint twice today. Good to know.

He hardly even remembered what Talia did to those guards, because the sound of bones crunching made him want to puke. When She finally untied them all, they gathered in front of the lab, and he rubbed his wrists, wincing.

“Okay. We’re sure, right? Everyone’s totally sure?” he checked.

“We’re all on board.” Lydia confirmed.

“Yeah, let’s do this fast.”

“No turning back, no freezing up. Got that?” Hale looked around them.

“Cause, if we do, then there’s a very good chance all of us die.” Stiles reminded them.

“We know.”

“Alright.” Hale nodded. They all jerked at the sound of an engine revving behind them.

“You guys talk a lot.” Talia observed.

And then she drove the car into the lab.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was hard fighting villains when there was a huge ass gaping hole in the wall. More so when the wall was actually a plane, and you were falling at rapid speeds from the sky.

And your idiot hacker consultant decided to be stupid and pretend he could fly a plane.

“Stiles!” he yelled when he saw the guy untie himself.

“I’ve got a plan!”

“You’re insane. Get back here!” He tried to grab him, but Stiles was too quick, and he disappeared. Surprisingly, they hadn’t died. Well, he almost did. That tends to happen when there a huge hole in the plane. Stiles tossed one of the emergency rafts to Martin and she opened up one of the rafts in the plane, and let it go just before Derek fell out.

Stiles stood over him, hair and clothes askew. “I read the safety pamphlet.” He gasped.

“I think you may be the first.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Not a scratch.” Stiles observed, circling the sheriff’s car. “But your plane’s totaled. I hope SHIELD insurance covers hijackings.”

“Sure. Under ‘incidentals’.” He gaped.

“I was joking.”

“I wasn’t.” Sheriff winked. Stiles laughed.

“What exactly did I sign myself up for?”

“Like I said – Front row seat to the craziest show on earth.”

He wasn’t wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I know people don’t smirk this much, and it’s bothering me how much I’ve written the word in only the last two chapters, but have you ever really paid attention to the show? Coulson’s always smiling and smirking like every damn thing that’s happened is going according to plan?? 
> 
> I love him though.And, of course, Stiles is ever the sarcastic little shit, so there's that.
> 
> (Sorry for the horribly written action scenes, im really bad at those)

**Author's Note:**

> My [Tumblr.](littleredtheboy.tumblr.com)
> 
> And in case anybody was confused:  
> in order of appearance
> 
> Ward – Derek Hale  
> May - Talia Hale  
> Agent Hill - Laura Hale  
> Coulson – The Sheriff  
> Skye – Stiles  
> Fitz - Danny  
> Simmons – Lydia Martin  
> Hunter (Or Mack, if you want) – Boyd  
> Bobbi – Erica  
> Trip - Isaac


End file.
